The horror

Hearing Sophie cry tonight has never been more sweet nor more welcome.  Let me explain.  This afternoon I took the girls for a run.  The plan was to run two and a half miles to a playground where Lydia could run to her hearts desire and then run the same route back when she'd had her fill.  Lyds has struggled to fall asleep at nap time for weeks now and going for a run/playing at the park has become a good compromise.  However, five minutes into our run she was out.  By the time I reached the playground I thought it better to let her get more sleep and worry about her disappointment at not playing on the swings or sliding down the slides rather than wake her up and suffer the consequences.  Especially when I know how much good a nap can do.  So we raced home with the plan to shower (after a quick visit from Grandma) and then feed Sophie before heading off to a meeting down the street.

Grandma came and everything was fine and well.  And then suddenly it wasn't.  Lydia had a meltdown.  An epic meltdown.  Really, I kid you not.  This outburst was new and downright unpleasant.  Period.  Apparently that nap did not do what I'd hoped.  Grandma's visit was cut short, and I tried to understand what had so upset Lydia, all the while delaying my shower and pushing back Sophie's dinner.  Sophie was a sweetheart and patient while Lyds and I sorted things out.  Then I handed Sophie a little girl shoe and hopped in the shower.  She cried a little.  Then a bit more.  I sped up and then she was quiet.  I thought she might have fallen asleep, but then I heard another cry and hopped out of the shower.  She started choking.  And then struggled for breath.  I tore her out of her bouncer and started pounding her back frantically trying to remember how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on an infant while racking my brain trying to conjure up what on earth she could possibly be choking on.  And trying really hard not to burst into tears.  Why do things like this always happen when Jon's in Farson??  (Like Lydia swallowing a ball of aluminum foil at Grandma and Grandpa Blackhursts.  She was only eight months, and yes, Jon was in Farson then too.  There have been other emergencies, but suffice it to say that that thought was not welcome.)  the back pounding helped Sophie's breathing.  I checked her mouth again and again.  Nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing.  I set her down for a second and knew that was not helpful.  But she was breathing.  Yes.  She was breathing.  And crying.  So many tears!  So upset!  I knew she was hungry and so I tried to feed her.  She liked the idea for oh... five seconds, if that, and then she'd pull away and let me have it.  I tried again with the same results.  It was then, while Sophie's head was tipped back and her mouth was wide open that I saw it.  A black number five planted on the roof of her mouth.  And then some other words.  A clear plastic sticker was stuck inside her mouth threatening to go down her throat.  Something I have no doubt was happening when I pulled her from her bouncer.  I stuck my finger in and tried to pull it out.  Sophie cried harder and the sticker moved away from me.  I paused for what felt like an eternity and then attempted to pull it out again.  Same awful results.  I tried again, this time sliding the sticker towards her cheek.  Out came the hateful sticker with a great deal of foamy saliva.  And Sophie was fine!!  Not really, but sort of.  She was traumatized and so was I.  I held her so close and couldn't stop kissing her.  Earlier this morning she and Lydia had been fighting over this pair of shoes.  I had no idea the terror they would later bring.  Why did I think that letting her hold one of them was a good idea?  Actually, I know why.  Sophie's usual toys have not been cutting it lately, and Lydia is really particular about which of her toys Sophie can play with.  It was a quick and easy solution and I only needed it to keep her happy for a few minutes. What I didn't know was that it would lead to that.

Sophie is fine.  She's sleeping and breathing right now.  Both girls are.  But I'll admit that I didn't let Sophie out of my sight for a minute tonight.  I just wanted to hold her.  I needed to hold her.  That reassurance that she was okay meant everything to me.  And still does.  And that is why hearing her cry was so welcome.  Like music.

And did I mention that she has teeth?  One and a half at the moment.  Isn't she adorable?